


This is where i Belong.

by OnceUponADream_Cal



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Platonic Relationships, mentor student relationship thats actually more of a father son relationship, will add more characters and tags as they become relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2019-11-02 03:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17879951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponADream_Cal/pseuds/OnceUponADream_Cal
Summary: Gabe threw open the door, and mentally prepared himself for yet another disappointing conversation with a 20 something punk who thought putting metal spikes on a leather jacket made him cool. Only to come to a full stop once he got a good look the prisoner.He had dark scruffy hair, so matted with dirt and blood it was impossible to tell what color it was originally. Every visible inch of him was dirty, like he had been tackled face first into the ground.He looked up at Gabe with big, tired, brown eyes, he was young. Couldn’t be more than 16 years old, but under all the dirt and obvious exhaustion, he looked even younger.Gabe kept his face straight as he closed the door behind him. the kid carefully watched him approach the table. And, to Gabe’s surprise, he spoke first.





	1. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe comes face to face with his biggest challenge yet.  
> a 17 year old loudmouth.

The deadlock sting had been brutal. It had been one of the bloodiest operations Gabriel had been on since the crisis, Not that he expected anything else. Deadlock was notorious for its ‘never surrender’ policy, There had been heavily casualties on both sides. Gabe had gotten though the whole ordeal with 10 dead agents, and dozens more hospitalized with injuries ranging from severe to moderate, and all he had to show for it was a handful of injured gang members in custody.

He and Jack had spent the past 18 hours trying to reorganize after the Op. With most of their agents in various states of injury and exhaustion, they had been forced to turn to the local sheriff’s department for aid. The sheriff herself had been more than willing to help, she had volunteered her cells, offices, and interrogation rooms for them to use. Her staff, although less enthusiastic about the intrusion, quickly put themselves to work getting the prisoners booked and settled. But now most of them hung around the kitchenette and quietly talked amongst themselves. Gabe had been thankful for their help, but if one more person stopped Jack to get a picture or ask him questions, he would murder both of them.

Jack had eventually shut himself in the sheriff’s office and took over calling fallen agents’ families, as well as coordinating with the FBI to arrange prison transport. Gabe had put himself in charge of interrogations, and he hated it. He’d never had this much of an issue with interrogations before. they had a pretty basic formula; He offered them a deal, they refused, he threatened them a bit, and eventually most of them accept the deal. Sometimes Jack would come in and try to charm the prisoner into trusting them, but most of the people Gabe dealt with knew better than to fall for that.

But these Deadlock assholes were a _massive_ pain in his ass. They were about as tight lipped as they came. The only time they spoke was when they spat out a cuss word or slur at him. He couldn’t get any of them to tell him their names, let alone any information on Deadlock. He had to wait for their records to download onto his tablet before he could try and get anywhere; he got nowhere. He had gotten through most of the prisoners with jack-shit, and it was frustrating.

The next prisoner on his list hadn’t finished the booking process yet. The was no mugshot or file attached to the nearly empty file on his tablet. He was walking in blind. Which was just fantastic.

* * *

Gabe threw open the door, face set into what Jack called his no-nonsense face (Ana called it his bitch face) and mentally prepared himself for yet another disappointing conversation with a 20 something punk who thought putting metal spikes on a leather jacket made him cool. Only to come to a full stop once he got a good look the prisoner.

He had dark scruffy hair, so matted with dirt and blood it was impossible to tell what color it was originally. Every visible inch of him was dirty, like he had been tackled face first into the ground (and knowing some of the agents they had brought, that was a very likely possibility.) and he looked up at Gabe with big, tired, brown eyes, he was young. Couldn’t be more than 16 years old, but under all the dirt and obvious exhaustion, he looked even younger.

Gabe kept his face straight as he closed the door behind him. the kid carefully watched him approach the table. And, to Gabe’s surprise, he spoke first.

“This where ya tell me I gotta flip on my crew, and you’ll make sure I get into the ‘nice’ part of prison?” the kid drawled and grabbed for the beaten old Stetson next to him.

“not yet. I have a few questions.” Gabe sat down in the chair across from him.

“I ain’t got nothing to say to you.” The kid raised his chin defiantly. “I ain’t gunna take no deal neither. So you can just fuck off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “you don’t even know what I want to ask.”

“’course I do. Y’all want to know about deadlock stuff. Well I ain’t spillin’”

Gabe let a small smile creep onto his face as a new idea popped into his head. “I wasn’t going to ask about that.”

The kid frowned. “you weren’t?”

He shook his head. “nope.”

“good. Cause I wasn’t gunna tell ya.” The kid fidgeted with his hat for a moment. “what, uh…where you goin’ to ask?”

He shrugged. “why does it matter? You already said you had nothing to say.”

The kid huffed. “well maybe I might. Don’t know until you ask ‘em”

Gabe liked this kid. He had been through a fire fight, lost, and arrested by the enemy. But couldn’t control his curiosity. “what’s your favorite western?”

“what?” the kid leaned back in his chair.

“your favorite western film. Noticed the hat and-” Gabe glanced under the table at the kid’s boots for confirmation. “spurs. Thought you might know your westerns. I’ve always liked the magnificent seven. Seen every reboot.”

The kid took a moment to think. “The good the bad and the ugly I guess.”

“The original spaghetti western. You seen many of eastwood’s movies?”

“nah. Only ever seen a few movies. But I like the old westerns best.” The kid smiled. “Never seen the magnificent seven before.”

“its based off a Japanese film called the seven samurai, which is a fantastic film, but I’ve always been a sucker for a good shoot out.”

The boy nodded. “I like the standoff scenes.”

He nodded in agreement and, after a brief pause asked. “What’s your name kid?”

The kid flashed him a toothy grin. “I’m the man with no name.”

Gabe snorted. “I’m sure you are.” He checked the time on his watch. “alright. Let’s get this over with.”

“get what over with?” the kid looked wary as Gabe stood up and withdrew a ring of keys from his pocket.

“I need to finish processing you.”

“you gunna fingerprint me and take my picture?”

Gabe nodded. “ And run a DNA test. Doesn’t matter if you don’t want to tell me your name vaquero. I’m sure its on file somewhere.”

“oh.” The kid let Gabe flip his wrist around to unlock a cuff, revealing a tattoo on the underside on his left arm.

It was the deadlock logo, Gabe knew, every single person he interrogated had it tattooed somewhere, but it disturbed him to see it on this kid. It was even more disturbing how faded the tattoo was. it wasn’t recent, it was several years old. “how old are you?” he blurted out.

“23.” The kid replied, a little to quickly.

Gabe gave him a look but didn’t press it. He reattached the cuffs and walked the kid to the door. “Alright Eastwood, time for your close ups.” He nudged the kid forward.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse meets jack. it goes splendidly,

He’d gotten the kid fingerprinted as was trying to convince the kid to stop making faces at the camera for his mugshot when Jack emerged from the office looking exhausted and made a bee line for Gabe.

“How’d it go?” Gabe put a hand on his friend’s arm as soon as he was with in reach. As much as Gabe had disliked the fruitless interrogations, he wouldn’t have changed places with jack for anything.

Jack rubbed the center of his forehead with his palm. “as fine as it could go considering. Though Gallagher’s mother yelled at me in Irish. At least I think it was Irish. I thought Irish was a dead language.”

“As a primary language, Viejo, but it’s made a come back in the past decade.” Gabe gently squeezed Jack’s arm before letting go. “she say anything bad?” the poor woman had lost her only child, it was her right to be angry, but if she had threatened the strike commander, they couldn’t ignore it.

Jack shook his head. “the translation wasn’t perfect. I think she said she was going to haunt me though. Nothing serious.” He glanced at the kid who was hovering just behind Gabe’s shoulder, blatantly eavesdropping. “I heard we brought a minor in. this him?”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “no. he’s a used car salesman. We brought him in for embezzling.”

Jack ignored him and strode over to the kid, arm outstretched for a handshake. “Strike commander John Morrison. What’s your name young man?”

The kid stepped away from jack and slightly behind Gabe. “Funny.” The kid flashed a big toothy grin, that practically screamed mischief and trouble. “names also John Morrison. Small world ain’t it?”

Jack dropped his hand. “very funny son. What’s your real name?”

“Not ‘son’ that’s for sure.” The kid replied.

“Gabe.” Jack looked at him, as if he could some how make the kid suddenly cooperate.

He shrugged. “he told me he was ‘the man with no name’ I was going to call him Eastwood”

“what?” Jack looked at him like he was crazy.

“It’s a movie character Viejo. From an old western.”

The kid took a step forward. “I could go by Eastwood.”

Gabe waved a hand between them. “see? There we go. Problem solved.”

Jack scowled at both of them. “Gabe.” He said again.

“you know I can’t actually read your mind, right? I know we’ve known each other for a while, but you still need to communicate using words.”

Jack sighed. “we need his actual name.”

“I know Carbon. I also do this for a living.” Gabe moved back so the kid couldn’t hide behind him anymore. “I was waiting for the fingerprints and DNA result to come back. But your welcome to try to get it out of him.”

Jack looked at the kid, “son, how old-” he quickly cut himself off and turned back to Gabe. “how old is he?”

The kid let out an amused snort. Gabe resisted the urge to do the same. “23 apparently.”

“he’s not 23.” He turned to the kid in question. “you’re not 23.”

“Am too old man.” The kid defiantly raised his chin.

Jack stepped toward the kid who, to his credit didn’t move away this time. “you’re not fooling anyone son, you’re still a child.” He grabbed he boy’s chin before Gabe could stop him. “Can’t be more than 15.”

The kid snarled and suddenly rammed his forehead into Jack’s face. Jack flinched back with a yell, blood pouring from his nose. Gabe grabbed the kid and pulled him into a corner away from Jack as people rushed into the area, eager to assist the strike commander.

“’m not a child.” he heard the kid mumble behind him. “’m almost 18.”

“Almost 18 is still underage vaquero.” He muttered back as Jack waved the crowd off and stood, sending a rage filled glare the boy’s way. Gabe grabbed the boy and hurriedly pushed him back down the hall. “time to go.”

He had gotten the kid back into the interrogation room and chained to the table before either of them spoke. Once again, the id surprised him by speaking first.

“that Morrison guy.” The kid said softly into the quiet room. “Was wearing an Overwatch uniform”

Gabe nodded. “members of overwatch tend to wear that.”

“He said he was the strike commander. He like, in charge of something?”

He snorted. “try everything. Do you really not know who the head of overwatch is kid? There are literally statues of him on almost all 7 continents.”

The kid shook his head slowly and hesitated before speaking. “didn’t know y’all were overwatch. Thought you was feds or something.”

“kid.” He waited until the boy looked at him. “Have you ever seen a fed go into bust with a pulse riffle half his size?”

He shook his head. “Nah…you overwatch too?”

“yeah kid.”

“how come you ain’t wearing the uniform?”

Gabe huffed out a laugh. “Blue’s never been my color.”

“don’t you have to wear it? if you’re really overwatch?”

He held up a hand. “hold on. You’re asking a lot of questions suddenly.” The kid looked away from him and fidgeted with his cuffs. “I’ll as many of your questions as I can, provided you answer one of mine.”

“my name.” the boy said it like an accusation.

Gabe smirked. “nope.” He pointed to the kid’s tattoo. “how old were you when you joined deadlock?”

“ _that’s_ your question”

“yup. You going to answer or not?”

The boy looked him over, as if he were trying to see into Gabe’s head. “and you’ll answer all my questions?” he waited until Gabe nodded. “’bout 12 or so.”

Gabe felt his heart drop into his stomach. “12? Why the fuck would deadlock recruit a 12 year old?”

The kid shrugged. “I was a good shot. But its my turn.” He leaned casually back in his chair. Or as casually as someone chained to a table could lean. “how come you don’t wear the blues?”

He took deep breath before answering. He needed to know more, but the kid obviously didn’t react well to being poked and prodded. “I’m part of a sub group of overwatch, focused on recon and stealth. Wearing our blues on missions would be counterintuitive.”

“Are you Morrison’s 2nd in command or something?”

“no. we usually work separately. He was assisting us on this operation.” Too many Blackwatch agents had been injured or sent on other, higher priority missions at the last minute. Jack had been eager to help. Said he spent to much time sitting down these days.

“you don’t talk to him like he’s your boss.” He rested his chin on his hand. He was started to relax, Gabe noticed. He no longer looked like a chained animal pulling at its bonds.

“We’ve been friends for ages.” Gabe crossed his legs casually, mimicking the boy’s relaxed posture. “served in the military together.”

“Oh.” He paused briefly. “what…who are you?”

Gabe smirked at the boy. “so, I can’t know your name, but you can know mine? That’s hardly fair.”

The boy blushed and ducked his head. “never mind.”

“Reyes.” He waited until the boy looked back at him. “Gabriel Reyes.”

The boy nodded. “so.” He said after a moment. “what’s goin to happen to me now?”

Gabe let the smile drop from his face. “well, you’re a minor, so you’ll be in a different detention center until you turn 18… you said you were ‘almost’ 18. How close is almost?”

“Turned 17 not to long ago.” The boy shrugged, not looking directly at him.

Gabe sighed. Kid was barely 17. “old enough to be tried as an adult. and with that stunt you pulled with Jack out there, I’d say he’ll recommend you be tried as an adult.”

“how long will I be in prison.” He said quietly.

“that depends.”

The kid sat up straight, any familiarity and casualty gone. “on your deal.”

He nodded. “amongst other things.” He continued at the kids confused look. “it depends on what you did for deadlock. We took a gun off you when you were brought it, I assume you used it.”

“’course I did.”

“You hit any of my agents?”

The boy stared at the floor. “yeah.”

Gabe sighed heavily. “we’ll assuming you didn’t kill anyone, with out my deal, 25 years depending on behavior.”

“what if I did kill some people?”

“Overwatch agents are technically officers of the law in the united states. Killing an officer is a capital felony. Punishable by life in prison or death.” He noticed the way the boy’s jaw clenched. “But you’re under 18, so you are excluded from the death penalty.”

“And that’s without your deal?” he finally looked up at Gabe, so he could confirm. “What if I took your deal?”

“we might be able to reduce your sentence, depending on how much information you can provide, and if you agree to testify against the rest of deadlock. You stay on your absolute best behavior, and parole might be an option.”

“either way, I’m going to spend most of my life behind bars?” the kid smiled bitterly

Gabe’s heart ached for the kid, it really did. But before he could respond, try to convince the kid that taking the deal meant he might be able to breath fresh air someday, some one pounded on the door. He sighed and stood up. “Think it over kid. The Fed’s won’t get here until tomorrow morning. You have until then.”

He had a hand on the door knob when the kid spoke again, so quietly Gabe almost missed it.

“It’s Jesse.” He swallowed thickly when Gabe turned and quirked an eyebrow. “names not Kid. Its Jesse. Jesse McCree.”

Gabe bit back a smile. “well. Nice to meet you Jesse McCree.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed back is welcome. but be gentle, i'm not a professional. this is for practice and fun.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Gabe have a little talk.

Gabe exited the interrogation room and was immediately given a file, and a message that Commander Morrison wanted to see him as soon as possible. Given that the file was probably the kid’s, Jesse’s records, Gabe decided that if Jack really wanted to speak with him, he would find him. So, he ignored the message and camped out in the breakroom to go over the file. The room was blissfully empty, the file was disturbingly empty.

They had taken Jesse’s fingerprints, DNA, and even run him through Facial recognition. It had all come back empty. He hadn’t even been caught on traffic cameras, the kid was either very good at passing under the radar, or never left the deadlock warehouses. The only thing he had in the file was a list of items confiscated from Jesse, (A revolver, an obnoxiously large belt buckle, and a pair of honest to god spurs.) and a ballistics report for the weapon taken off him, A heavily modified Colt Thunder. The modifications had apparently made it easy to trace.

The gun had been reported stolen from the house of a retired sheriff in some Podunk town just out side Santa Fe, New Mexico, 6 years ago. Since the gun had been stolen, and presumable modified, it had been used in nearly 2 dozen gang related activities. And, in the past 4 years, it had killed 21 people, all but one of them had been killed with a bullet right between the eyes. Most of the people had been members of a smaller gang that had been trying to encroach on Deadlock’s territory for the past few years, 3 of them had been positively I.D as deadlock members. Gabe recognized on of the names as a younger guy who had tried to sell out Deadlock in exchange for protective custody. The poor sucker had been killed in his jail cell before he could talk. One of the dead men had been a police officer who had been killed in a shoot out 2 years ago. It was all very in line with deadlock’s M.o. Gabe would bet his left arm that those other deadlock members were deserters. If he hadn’t known who the gun belonged to, he would have no problem believing the gun belonged to a seasoned gunslinger. There was however, one body that didn’t fit the pattern.

Last year a man by the name of Alexander Rokas had been shot 8 times with the gun before dying of blood loss. Rokas had a squeaky-clean record. The man had run a youth center in a low-income area of Santa Fe, was an active member of his church, and had been married with 2 kids. But the brutality of the killing spoke volumes to Gabe, that and the fact a 16-year-old boy had apparently done it. the local police had torn the man’s life apart looking for a reason behind the murder, but they never found anything.

The very last page in the folder added to the gun’s rap sheet. 11 agents had been not fatally wounded by it, shots to the knee’s and shoulders. But 4 agents had been killed, single gun shot to the head. Bringing the body count to 25. Five of them had been officers, and one had been under police protection. Gabe scrubbed a hand down his face. If Jesse had really been behind the trigger, he may not be able to get as much out of the deal as he originally thought. Jesse may not get the death penalty, but there were few judges who would let a cop killer, let alone some one who had killed 4 overwatch agents, out on parole after a few years of good behavior.

He could probably get the kid in protective custody, but courts didn’t exactly like him. not for the first time he wished he had some of Jack’s easy charisma and magnetic personality.

As if summoned by the mere thought of him, Jack rounded the corner of the break room and stomped up to him.

Gabe couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the pristine white bandage over his friend’s swollen red nose. Jesse had gotten him good. “Hey sun shine. How’s the nose.”

Jack’s scowl deepened “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“I’m fucking hilarious Viejo, you just don’t have a sense of humor.”

“I have a sense of humor.” Jack grumbled. “that’s not what I came to talk about. Didn’t Dore tell you I wanted to see you?”

“Yup.” Gabe leaned back in his chair.

“were you…going to come?”

“nope.”

Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, or tried to, flinching when he brushed the bruised flesh. “Gabe.”

“I have actual work to do Jack.” He waved at the file in front of him. “besides, It’s not like I made myself hard to find.”

“Fucking asshole.” Jack muttered and sat down opposite Gabe, pulling the file toward him. “is this on the kid?”

“mhm. Not much on him though. He doesn’t have a record.” He took the opportunity to get up and grab some coffee. Cream, no sugar for jack, and an unholy amount of sugar for him.

“well, he’s still pretty young. Maybe the others are protecting him?” Jack accepted the coffee. “thanks.”

“de nada. He said he’s been in deadlock for 5 years.” Gabe took a sip of his own sugary concoction. “Deadlock may protect a rookie once or twice, but with their mortality rate, kid’s practically a veteran member. He’s good Jack. We couldn’t even find him on private security tapes or traffic cameras.”

“did you ever get a name out of him?”

“no.” he lied. “he wants to keep with the Eastwood thing.” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell Jack that the kid’s name was Jesse. But something in his gut told him to keep it to himself for the time being.

Jack snorted. “you should have never started that.”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “it was kind of funny.”

“he broke my nose.”

“I remember. I was there.” Gabe leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee. “It was still funny.” Jack ignored him and opened the file. Gabe downed the rest of his coffee and was pouring his second when Jack looked back up

“He’s killed 21 people?” he pushed the file away from him. “Jesus Christ.”

Gabe sat back down and nudged Jacks coffee toward him. “25.”

“what?”

“He’s killed 25 people. The first report didn’t include this last mission.”

Jack’s hands curled around the warm mug, but he didn’t drink. “He killed 4 agents?”

He nodded. “and sent 11 more to the hospital. But here’s the thing Jack, they were all head shots.”

“so?” Jack scrunched his face. “what does that have to do with anything?”

“24 of the people he’s taken out, its been with a single gunshot wound,” he put a finger in the middle of his forehead. “dead center. That’s an incredible difficult shot to make. And he has done it perfectly, each time.”

Jack leaned back, away from him, a cautious look on his face. “what are you saying?”

“he managed to take out some one who was not only in police custody, but behind bars in a station, without being seen or leaving any evidence. This kid wasn’t high level, deadlock obviously didn’t know what they had, the skill it- “

Jack stood up suddenly, cutting him off. “He killed 4 of _your agents_ Gabe.” He said in a low voice. “and 21 other people. One of whom was a police officer. Skilled or not, he is a murderer. And he should, and will, be put away for the rest of his life.”

“he’s just a kid, barely even 17.”

“it doesn’t matter. He’s a criminal.”

“how can you say jack?” Gabe stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. “he’s a child. Children don’t join gangs without a reason!”

“but he did. And now he has to face the consequences.” Jack’s face was hard, unmoving.

“Things aren’t so black and white Jack!” Gabe could hear his voice rising but couldn’t seem to care.

“I know! You always say that, and I know!” He shouted back. Then he closed his eyes and sat back down. “I just…what do you propose I do about it Gabe? I don’t know what you want from me.”

Gabe followed his friend’s lead and sat down. “I don’t know.” He said truthfully. “I’m just angry. I’ve known so many people who’ve ended up like him. growing up, so many of my classmates and friends joined up with gangs for protection, to keep their families safe, and put food on their tables. I just _know_ what pushed children to become criminals, and it makes me so angry.”

Jack finally took a drink of his coffee, draining almost half of it at once. “regardless of their reasons, criminals are criminals. It is our _job_ to put them away. he may be young, but there is no way around it.”

Gabe tore off his beanie and tugged his hand through his short hair. “I know I just…I offered him a deal. I think he’ll accept.”

“I don’t think any deal can help him.”

“no, no. I get that. but,” he dropped his hand back to the table. “if I can get him to talk, would you be willing to let me charge him as a minor, not as an adult.”

Jack gave his an almost pitiful look. “It wouldn’t make a difference.”

“but it would. they can’t give a minor life without the possibility of parole. He’d at least get a chance.”

“he’s 17, not 14. No judge would agree to that.”

“They might if the UN’s posterchild asked them too.”

“Gabe.” Jack said softly. “I can’t do that.”

“why not? The Fed’s are coming tomorrow, all you have to do is smile at them and they’ll do anything you ask. Come on farm boy, use that pretty face for something.”

Jack flushed slightly. “No, I mean I actually can’t. that’s what I came here to tell you. Overwatch is pulling out of this. I have to be on the other side of the world by daybreak, and your agents need to recover.”

“This was a Blackwatch op. Overwatch wasn’t involved.”

He gave Gabe a long-suffering sigh. “you know what I meant. Blackwatch is a part of Overwatch. Anyway. I’m leaving in a couple hours, and I got the UN to approve a month long leave for all Blackwatch agents involved in this operation.”

“they’ll like that. we’ve been short lately, so I’ve had to push them.” Besides a large number of them would need more than a month of recovery, so the remaining agents would have their work cut out for them. Gabe really needed to hire more agents. He suddenly felt very tired. “god, this was a mess.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “are you going to head back to the base?”

“no. the kid still hasn’t agreed to my deal.” He looked Jack straight in the eyes. “I need to see this through.

“I know.” He said softly. “I don’t know if the Feds will agree to what ever deal you think up, but I’ll back you up the best I can. I trust you.”


	4. Chapter 4

He spent the rest of the afternoon helping pack up and trying to wrangle and trying to wrangle an uncooperative Jesse into a new holding cell.  
“You’re a minor, and a possible witness. You have to be in your own cell.” He explained for what seemed like the dozen time.   
“but them everyone will think I snitched!”  
“it doesn’t matter. You wont be with them. They cant hurt you.”  
“But, if I don’t take the deal, I’ll go to the same prison as them.” He pointed out.  
“then take the deal.” Gabe was being as patient as he could. “problem solved.”  
“you said I had until tomorrow until I decide.”  
“yeah. You do.”  
“so why cant I just stay here?”  
Gabe rubbed his forehead and sighed. “because, interrogation rooms are for interogations. I am done with your interrogation. You have to move onto a holding cell.”  
“what if I have more questions?”  
“that’s not how inerogations work kid.”  
“well.” Jesse leaned back and thought for a moment. “just put me in with the other guys.”  
“No jesse.” He growled. “you have to be in your own cell.”  
“But they’ll think I snitched! They’ll kill me!”  
Gabe threw up his hand up in frustration. “You’re in protective custody! They can’t hurt you!”  
Jesse pointed a finger in Gabe’s face. “not yet, but they will.”  
“no. they wont.”  
“yes they will. They always do.” Jesse frowned. “they always get snitches.”  
“you are in protective custody. Protective, is the key word here.”  
“protective custody means shit!”  
Gabe stood up. “you know what? You don’t actually get a choice in this. Stand up.”  
“No.”  
“Yes.”  
Jesse gripped the arms of his chair. “no.”  
Gabe glared at him. “Get. Up.”  
“Nah. I’ll just wait here for the Feds.”  
“you get out of that chair, or I pry you out of it.” he continued when Jesse defiently set his jaw. “ I have 20 years of military experience. I fought in the omnic wars, and run the most successful and the most impressive Black ops organization ever seen. You will get out of that chair.”  
Jesse swallowed. “You won't do anything.”  
“try me.” He planted his hands on the desk and stared the boy down. There were obviously better ways of doing this, but he refused to back down. He would not lose to this brat. It was a point of pride now.   
Jesse was the first to look away. “fine.” he said through clenched teeth. “but if they kill me, it’ll be on your conscience.”  
“I think I’ll live. Get your ass out of that chair.”  
He glared at Gabe but stood up a followed him out the door.  
-  
Jesse grumbled and sulked as Gabe lead him through the halls of the station, and Gabe was so preoccupied rolling his eyes he didn’t pay enough attention as they rounded a blind corner and accidently took out some poor intern. Files went flying and the intern, a young woman, hit the ground hard.  
“Ah shit. Sorry.” Jesse immediently knelt down and started gathering the spilled papers. “You okay ma’am?”  
“yes. I’m so sorry.” The young woman picked her self up and started piling the mess into a manageable pile. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Its my fault. I’m sorry.”  
Jesse handed her the papers he’d gathered. “Nah. It aint your fault. Its his.” He pointed over his shoulder at Gabe and grinned. “didn’t do a very good job of leading.”  
The woman finally seemed to notice the cuffs and tattoo on jesse and recoiled. “t-thanks. Um. Sorry again.”  
Gabe didn’t miss how Jesse’s face fell when the woman suddenly wouldn’t look directly at him. He offered the woman a hand. “Don’t worry about it. as long as you aren’t hurt.”  
She took his hand and shook her head. “no sir. I’m fine. thank you.” She clutched the messy files to here chest and darted down the hall.  
Jesse still knelt on the ground. “I didn’t mean to scare her. I just wanted to help.”  
Gabe sighed. “Kid, doesn’t matter what you intended to do, that tattoo speaks for its self.”  
“Don’t call me kid.”  
“Alright.” He pulled him up by the back of his shirt. “lets go, Vaquero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to finish the first part of this if it kills me.

**Author's Note:**

> I have the first part of the story written. it just needs to be edited.  
> Apologies for my poor grammar and writing skills. as with everything i post, this fic is for practice and will be updated according to how much free time i have.


End file.
